


I Wish You Were The One That Got Away

by wintersoldier1989



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Exes, F/F, Smut, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-25 16:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20914763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersoldier1989/pseuds/wintersoldier1989
Summary: It’d be an understatement to say that the last time you saw her, things had ended on bad terms. Now Natasha has tracked you down to settle some unfinished business.





	I Wish You Were The One That Got Away

The german nightclub was dimly lit and the music intolerable, but Natasha was laser focused on her mission. She made her way through the crowd completely undetected.

It wasn’t until you noticed the small group of strangers you’d been dancing with suddenly begin to disperse, that you caught onto the fact that something was up.

Before she’d even said a word, a shiver ran down your spine.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” she said In a rasp that was unmistakably hers.

“Clearly you can’t take a hint, Romanoff,” you smarted back, spinning around on your heels ready to face her. The heat that warmed your veins was no longer from the thrill of dancing but rather annoyance. “How’d you even know I was here?” 

You stood toe to toe, your posture making it more than clear that you weren’t interested in entertaining her.

Natasha quirked a brow, her expression indicating that you were much too intelligent to be asking such a stupid question.

She rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged upwards. You noticed that she was dressed in her usual work attire; a black catsuit that complimented all her curves while still being extremely functional. 

“If you came here to try to apologize, you can shove it up your ass. I don’t have time for you or your excuses.”

The numerous shots you’d already enjoyed meant that your filter was long gone. It was the most you’d spoken to her since that night and Natasha would take what she could get. If that meant being the subject of your ire; your finger in her face, then she’d begrudgingly oblige. Because if she had_ her_ way, you’d get your due before the night was up.

She held your gaze, still not having said another word. It annoyed you that she’d clearly come all this way but now that she was in front of you, she had nothing to say. 

Figures. _What was that expression?_ Something about a leopard not being able to change its spots.

You made your way over to the bar, the bartender catching your signal for another round of your favourite russian vodka. Seemed appropriate considering your current company.

“Look Nat, you’ve made the long trek all the way here to see me. So unless you have something important to say, let’s toast to the past with a drink and stop pretending that whatever this was between us was anything more than just good sex.”

“Just good?” She asked as she accepted the shot glass, her lips rising into a grin clearly amused with your assessment. 

“Prost!” You enthused somewhat rudely, consciously deciding to avoid her question. Instead you chose to enjoy how smooth vodka was on your tongue. 

“Well you better be on your way, the world isn’t going to save itself. It was nice to catch up.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at you, downing her shot with ease. She was used to your sarcastic mouth and while she usually enjoyed it, tonight you the fact that you were able to dismiss her so easily rubbed her the wrong way.

You’d barely placed your shot glass on the bar top, ready to get back to the dance floor when Nat wrapped her hand around your upper arm. You both knew that if you really didn’t want her hands on you, you could easily break away; equally as skilled as the woman who was now guiding you towards the back of the club.

With a quick jiggle and turn of a door knob, Nat unlocked a small storage room and pulled you in behind her.

“You planning to lock me in here forever? Torture me until I forgive you?” Your tone was mocking, but you knew that it was well within her means to do just that. She wasn’t known as the _Black Widow_ for nothing. “There are no ropes or chains in here, doesn’t really seem like your style.”

“Will you shut up for a fucking minute?” Nat finally said in exasperation, clearly having reached her tolerance limit for your attitude.

“Make me, Romanoff,” you taunted with a smirk.

It was part of the dynamic between you, working her up to this point; the brink where she’d finally let go and give all the attitude back to you but in a much more satisfyingway.

A quick swing of her foot at your ankle and a tug on your hips, found your back suddenly pressed up against the metal door. A zing of excitement ran up your spine, knowing full well where this encounter could lead.

But instead of the arousal you expected to see in her eyes, you saw something else. Something that looked a lot like vulnerability and struck you as very out of place.

You watched as her hands tugged anxiously on her shoulder-length red waves, eyes cast down to the concrete floor. She’d been blonde the last time you’d seen her, but her natural auburn hue had always been your favourite. 

“I swear if you say one more word and you’re going to regret it,” Nat warned, a deadly mix of fire and ice in her voice.

You stayed quiet. The curiosity of wanting to know what she’d come all this way to say winning out over your penchant to antagonize.

Nat’s breath warmed your cheek as one hand came up to grip your shoulder, the other still resting softly on your hip. “I know we left things on a bad note in Budapest.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” you rebutted, the hurt creeping into your voice despite your best efforts to hold your well constructed mask in place. 

You and Nat had a lot in common, both incredibly talented operatives that had been left with a skewed sense of mistrust in the world. An unsurprising job hazard when you were dealing with deceit at the highest levels day in and day out. She shot you a glare meant to silence and her hand moved from your shoulder down to your mouth, ceasing any further commentary while she spoke.

“And I know what I did was beyond shitty, but that doesn’t mean that you get to just pretend that you didn’t tell me you love me and then ran away when I didn’t say it back,” she ground out in a tight, almost angry whisper against your ear.

Your teeth nipped sharply against her warm palm causing it to fall back to her side, the words immediately bringing you right back to that night in Hungary.

It felt so stupid in retrospect. In hindsight, you fully understood why you’d been trained not to trust. They’d warned you that it could cost you your life, but now you knew that the heartbreak it had caused was so much worse.

“Who’s the one pretending, _Natalia_?” You spat back at her. 

Nat’s eyes went dark at your question. 

“Because I’m pretty sure_ I_ was the one who was completely open and honest about my feelings and you’ve made me regret it every day since.” Your chest heaved, your whole body flush with pent up resentment and anger at the woman in front of you.

“I miss you,” she breathed so quietly that the deep bass of the music on the other side of the door could’ve easily drowned out her words. “I’m sorry.”

A pair of warm lips pressed against the curve of your neck, nipping along a well-traveled pathway of sensitive skin that she knew would make you melt.

“Fuck,” you gritted between clenched teeth. Simultaneously trying to resist the rush of arousal and desperate to hold back the strangled emotion bubbling up your throat. 

You weren’t going to give Nat the satisfaction of seeing you crumble; instead you gave her a shove backwards so you could have a goddamn second to catch your breath and regain your composure.

Who did she think she was?Trying to come here and change the terms of a relationship that _she_ ended. _Fuck that._

You steeled your gaze on the beautiful redhead in front of you and laid out a few conditions of your own.

“I’m done talking, Natasha. As far as I’m concerned, you made yourself perfectly clear back in Budapest. So unless you plan on getting on your knees, I have no other use for your mouth.”

Her green eyes didn’t give away any answers. Her silence causing you to reach for the door knob, having had more than enough of this uncomfortable trip down memory lane. 

But Nat’s quick reflexes had her hand gripping tightly over yours, stalling your escape.

Before you could ask her what she was doing, her mouth was on yours. Hot, demanding kisses completely overwhelming your senses. Her tongue urged your mouth open, her teeth nipping along your bottom lip until she left you completely breathless; eyes finally meeting in an uneasy confrontation of unspoken agendas.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you warned, tracking the way she moved. The hand on your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I know,” she replied, her voice catching ever so slightly. Anyone who didn’t know her as well as you, wouldn’t even have noticed. “Just sex. _Great _sex.”

You nodded back at her, feeling relieved that you’d managed to reach some kind of temporary understanding, even if the warning bells in your mind still rang.

She pressed a thigh between your legs, her fit form molding against you from top to bottom as your hips rolled into her, seeking friction. Nat was everywhere, making every part of your body hungry for her; her palm worked its way under your top to cup your breast, her tongue licked the salty sweat from along your collarbone.

“Mmmm,” you moaned at the way your body instantly responded to her. She may have been a shit girlfriend, but the woman was a talented lover, you’d give her that. 

Nat’s familiar taste pulled you back in from your wandering thoughts; your mouth instinctively opening to swallow another raw kiss. Lust and aching desire served a convenient distraction to the hurt and anger that still brewed beneath the surface. 

She didn’t disappoint, lavishing you with intense and sultry kisses that would make anybody swoon. You matched her fervor, tongues meeting stroke for stroke and you both relished in the tease. But Nat quickly regained the upper hand when she swept your hair into her fist and pulled just hard enough to make your scalp tingle.

You tugged down the zipper of her jumpsuit, the pale skin along swell of her breast revealing itself to your ravenous gaze. Eager hands roamed to touch, your fingers easily slipping beneath the tactical fabric in search of her supple flesh. You squeezed roughly, loving the way her breasts were each a perfect handful.

“Did I say you could touch?” She let out in a hiss against your lips before pulling your bottom lip between her teeth as if to punctuate her question.

“Fuck yes,” you breathed as another flash of heat sparked in your core at the way her menacing tone scolded you. You were beyond eager for her to rough you up and take back control. It was the way things usually worked between you two and to be honest, in the bedroom, it was what you preferred. Her grip on your hair made it hard for you to shake your head in response but you dropped your hands in compliance.

Strands of your hair tickled your skin as she let it fall from her hold, your scalp still carrying a slight sting. Nat moved to snatch your tank top up and off of your body while you focused on keeping your breath steady, your wrists now pinned above your head.

“Someone’s excited,” she mused, sliding the back of her hand over the swell of each breast and extracting a squeak when she plucked your pert nipple in quick pinch. The gesture immediately caused a rush of heat to pool between your thighs and dampen your panties.

“More,” you whimpered, unable to resist. You may have been mad at her, but that didn’t stop your body from wanting her. To make you forget about all the hurt and pain she’d caused. You moaned again, eyes pinched closed as she tugged your tight skirt down your legs, the fabric pooling around your heels. Natasha cupped her hand between your thighs, giving your heat the slightest tease. But when she didn’t continue her own personal brand of pleasurable torture, you opened your eyes to meet her green ones. 

“Yeah? You want me to make you feel good, baby?” She asked, looking for confirmation of your consent, though an unguarded look still lingered in her eyes.

You nodded back at her, already having resigned yourself over to the fact that you were going to let her fuck you this storage room. That you wanted her to.

Seemingly appeased that you weren’t doing any of this against your will, Nat kneeled on the concrete floor. She kissed a trail along your thigh to your knee, her lips leading your panties to where they joined your skirt. “Wider baby,” she urged, tossing the discarded garments to the side in order to make it easier to spread your legs. 

You didn’t need to be told twice, though you were tempted to see what kind of punishment would await you if you did. Natasha adjusted her own stance until she was nestled perfectly between your legs, her breath gently warming the already searing flesh of your core.

“Such a pretty pussy,” she complimented, giving you a soft pet that didn’t absolutely nothing but frustrate you. 

You whined growing impatient at her slow and tortuous pace. “Jesus fucking Christ, Natalia. Don’t make me regret this.”

You could feel her smirk against your inner thigh, before she sharply nipped the sensitive flesh. You knew it’d leave a mark, the skin already red and stinging from her love bite. Though you were used to physical pain, it was the emotional wounds that you still didn’t quite know how to heal.

But before you could even pretend to shriek at the sting, Nat buried her face in the small, neatly groomed thatch of hair between your thighs and licked along your folds, turning your cry into a gasp of delight.

That’s how it was with Natasha, she kept you on your toes always a step ahead of the game. You’d taken a risk and played against her rules in Budapest and it had cost you the woman you loved.

Her skillful tongue danced along your pussy, working you over with each suck. You dropped your hands to her head, holding her tightly in your grasp. Part of you desperate to ride the high of pleasure to the fullest and the other part wanting to hold onto this fleeting moment where it felt like she was still yours. 

With every suck of her tongue on your clit, your breath grew tighter and your head lolled back against the door. She opened you up even more by lifting a leg to rest on her shoulder, teasing you with an abundance of sweet and soft licks all along your swollen heat. Nat’s firm grip on your left ass cheek held you in place and kept you from toppling to the floor.

“Yes, Nat,” you panted. The combination of her movements had you just about ready to explode. “Fuck baby. Don’t stop, it feels so fucking good.”

Natasha purred against you, while you rutted against her face, a slut for every word of praise you gave while she ate you out. Her slick lips and tongue moved smoothly over your sensitive core, another groan-like whimper left your mouth as her thumb softly circled your hard nipple. 

The dynamic between you and Nat was almost impossible to explain. A push and pull, give and take that had been the closest thing to a relationship either of you had known but hadn’t been able to withstand the weight of any real expectations.

Nat was needy in ways you weren’t and you were willing to give her what she needed. But when she’d been unable to say the words back to you, in no uncertain terms, she’d unequivocally crushed you.

You became desperate to push the intruding thoughts back into the black box in the back of your mind, aching for the high of orgasm instead.

Two fingers began to work you over, plunging in and out of your dripping cunt while Nat continued lap at your clit in short, electric bursts. 

“Right there,” you urged, your hips chasing her touch. You looked into her bright green eyes and pleaded, “I’m so close.”

“Take it baby, it’s yours,” she said, her voice thick with lust as she watched your face pinch up in pleasure while she roughly rubbed your pussy.

Your body coiled tighter as it always did right before you came. Nat latched on, giving you another handful of deep sucks that finally brought you the orgasm you craved. The music in the club drowned out your sharp cry, allowing the patrons on the other side of the door to remain oblivious.

It took you more than a moment to regain your senses. I wasn’t often that you allowed yourself the luxury of truly letting go, a side effect of your chosen career field. But with Natasha it was always this way; easy to give yourself to her, any way she wanted.

Nat had never looked more beautiful. Her flush skin on display in a perfect V from her neck to her waist, her lips thoroughly coated in the evidence of your orgasm. Feeling completely sated and a little unsteady, you slid down to the floor; the metal of the door cool on your hot skin.

The confident seductress that had been between your thighs only moments ago was now gone. She’d surprised you with the way she’d fucked you, not nearly as rough as you’d been expecting. Your favourite pair of green eyes shone with uncertainty and apprehension, like the next words out of your mouth could break her, and it brought you right back to that hotel room.

Instead of muddying up the moment with another futile argument about hurt feelings, you traced a thumb over the natural red tint of her lips. She leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the soft comfort.

“I really am sorry,” she rasped.

“I know,” you answered matter-of-factly, no animosity or spite hidden in your words now, just the sober acceptance that this was how it had to be. You moved to stand and she followed. Natasha passed you your skirt and you slipped your clothes back on.

You moved to close the small amount of distance between you, hand outstretched, giving an upward tug on the zipper on her uniform.

“I want to hate you, but I can’t,” you breathed, your fingers moving up to comb through her tangled waves.

“I know,” she echoed. “But you have every reason to hate me.” Her expression full of feelings that she didn’t know how to communicate. The walls she’d built long ago, were still firmly held in place by her tormented past.

“I can’t hate something I love,” you whispered despite the fact that you knew full well she didn’t _—or couldn’t,_ feel the same.

She nudged your lips with her own, helpless against the pull for one last kiss. Despite your best efforts to keep it chaste, you were hooked as soon as you tasted yourself on her tongue. You sucked on her bottom lip, the whimpers that me your ears spurred on more and more kisses that were trying desperately to convey how deeply you felt for her. If your body was all she would take, it’s what you would give. 

Natasha pulled back, her chest heaving. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tucking your cheek against hers, allowing yourself one last moment. Of what? You still weren’t sure. All you knew was that it felt right, that it was something both of you needed.

“So where are you headed next?” You asked stepping back, gently tucking a fly-away behind her ear.

“I’m due back in the states by morning,” she replied, leaning her cheek into your palm.

“Well if you ever find yourself changing your mind, you know where to find me, Natalia.” 

Stepping back, Nat gave you a small sympathetic smile; knowing that she had caused you a tremendous amount of pain that she couldn’t help you heal.

You pressed one last soft kiss to her lips, understanding that it could very well be the last.

But as you opened the door, you turned back to her.

“Oh, and Romanoff?” 

“Yeah?” She rasped, her eyes filling with something that looked a lot like hope.

“Just don’t take too long.”


End file.
